


That Would Be Enough

by Wish_I_Had_A_Tail



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Future chapters will have them doing more things together, Gen, Judaism, Once I decide what I want them to do, Pesach | Passover, discussions of superheroes and religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wish_I_Had_A_Tail/pseuds/Wish_I_Had_A_Tail
Summary: Kitty Pryde and Erik Lehnsherr spend time together, when they're not both embroiled in some complicated battle. They even spend the holidays together. How did that start happening?





	That Would Be Enough

In the early afternoon, three days before the onset of Passover, Kitty Pryde sat cross-legged on her bed and attempted to end a phone call with her mother. “I know, mom,” she said for the third time, “but I can’t make it for the seder, so there’s really no point in me coming home in like the middle, you know?” She paused for a response, and nodded slowly at what was being said to her on the other line. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Okay. … I love you too. Okay. Okay – bye.”

Kitty ended the call with a profound exhale. Relieved that that was done and over with, she made what she considered were the necessary preparations for a Passover spent alone – she set a series of downloads to run on her computer and glanced into her room minifridge. Finding almost nothing, she slung her backpack behind her and set off to the grocery store. Kitty walked unhurriedly to the furthest grocery store she knew, taking her time in the warm March air. Days ago, when she realized that she’d be celebrating on her own, she had considered asking Xavier if she could host a real, proper seder in the mansion with everyone. She had been pretty certain he’d probably agree to it, too. Use it as some kind of teaching moment or exercise about tolerance.

That was precisely the reason she hadn’t asked. Kitty didn’t want to teach anyone anything. She just wanted to observe the holidays. This was her train of thought as she crossed the street, rendering herself intangible to avoid having to pay attention to her surroundings. She ran through a mental checklist of what she needed, and tried hard to remember which drinks didn’t contain any corn syrup. Her phone buzzed against her thigh. She slid it out of her pocket and read the message. It was Kurt.

 _Would you like to join us for pizza later tonight?_ Followed by two little pepperoni pizza slices. The corners of her mouth quirked up in amusement.

 _Count me in_ : )

Kitty thought absently that she might as well start loading up on carbs tonight. Slipping her earphones in, her mind wandered. The music blended time together until she was already walking through the sliding automatic doors. The sudden air conditioning blasted her unpleasantly in the face. Turning her music up, she made a beeline for the kosher section. The matzah was immediately out of an aisle, boxes stacked in what had once been a neat pyramid before the midafternoon rush, and Kitty reached for a box at the same time as someone else. She withdrew her hand quickly, said ‘sorry’ a bit too loudly through the music in her ears, and looked up at the man.

Erik Lehnsherr himself dropped the box of matzah calmly into his basket, and for a second a lost, unsure expression flitted across his face before recognition abruptly set in.

Kitty was an intelligent, tactful person. But her instinctual reaction was still to gape, drop her jaw, and blurt out, “Magneto?!”

A second after it came out of her mouth, she realized how _loud_ she had been. Dozens of frightened, sparkling eyes abruptly turned in their direction, and Erik shot her a weary, irritated glance. Kitty yanked the buds out of her ears. People were starting to whisper, a background static buzz of tension and building hysteria. When the first few started to reach ever-so-slowly for their phones, Magneto let out a long-suffering sigh. He put the box carefully back into the pyramid, held up both hands in a gesture of supplication, then without a word turned and walked to the exit. When the automatic doors hissed and slid open, more than one person let out a little gasp. The whole event took all of thirty seconds, and the tension in the store palpably diffused when he had left.

Kitty was absolutely mortified. She had just harassed Magneto into leaving a grocery store. The absolute absurdity of the situation was exceeded only by the wave of guilt that came unexpectedly over her. For a moment, she seriously considered just finishing her shopping, but obligation and embarrassment made her set her basket down and head out after him. He was walking unhurriedly through the parking lot, hands in the pockets of his slacks, and he stopped and turned when he heard her approach. They stared at each other for several silent seconds. As always, he broke the silence first.

“Perhaps,” he said dryly, “in public, you should call me Erik.”

Kitty’s face flushed with heat.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. Very slowly, his face softened into a small, ironic smile, so slight she thought she might be imagining it.

“Believe it or not,” he admitted, “this sort of thing does happen from time to time. Though usually it’s when Charles has my face plastered all over the news.” A sudden suspicion flashed through his eyes. “Summers didn’t send you to check up on me, did he?”

Kitty shook her head rapidly. “No! It isn’t…” she cut herself off, tried again. “You’re not, um—”

“Currently on the x-men’s list of priorities?” he offered.

Kitty gave him a sheepish glance, feeling very silly and very small. “Something like that. Sorry again. I didn’t mean for that to happen. You were buying stuff for Passover?”

“I was,” he confirmed. “I suppose I’ll head down to the store a few blocks down.”

“I’ll come with you,” she announced before she could rethink it. He looked about as surprised as she felt. “My fault you had to leave,” she explained. “I need groceries too.”

He blinked at her. Then he said, “In that case, I’ll give you a lift.”

“A… lift?” Kitty glanced uncertainly at their surroundings, then down at his feet, and Erik grinned.

“In a car, Katherine.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “Obviously. Um, okay, I guess.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re _not_ up to anything, right?” She straightened up a little.

“Not at present, no.” They were already walking towards his car. “Though there is someone in the trunk.” He looked to her, smirking, and when her face stared back up at him completely devoid of amusement, he had to restrain himself from rolling his entire head. “Good God, Katherine, I’m joking.”

“Kitty.”

There was a brief pause. “Right, Kitty.” He waved his hand and the doors of a grey sedan clicked open. When they climbed inside, he shut his eyes briefly, and the engine came to life with a mechanical rumble.

 _Did you lose your keys?_ Is what Kitty _considered_ saying, but what she said was, “Whose car is this?”

Erik shrugged as they merged onto the road. “I just look for whichever has the vilest bumper stickers.”

Kitty couldn’t help herself; she laughed all the way to the grocery store. He got them a shopping cart, and Kitty walked beside him as he pushed it, feeling not unlike a small child. Occasionally, he took his hand off the cart before catching himself and quickly gripping it again. There was a quiet pause as they stopped in front of the rice, both thinking exactly the same thing.

“You know,” Kitty began, “they lifted the ban on—”

“Yes, I heard.” He seemed to consider for a moment, then shrugged. “I always found it strange, a group of rabbis somewhere deciding for everyone that all of a sudden we can eat rice and corn.”

“Well,” Kitty countered, “it was some group of rabbis somewhere that decided we couldn’t eat it in the first place. Sephardics have been eating it this whole time.”

“That’s true.” He squinted at the shelf, then looked down at her. “I suppose I’m old fashioned,” he said diplomatically.

“Yeah. Me too.” She licked her lips and directed them onwards down the aisle. “I didn’t know you practiced,” she said eventually. “I guess I assumed you didn’t.”

“I do.”

“Yeah.”

They went to the cash, and Erik methodically placed all their items together on the belt. Kitty made to grab the divider bar, but it leapt out of her grip and stayed glued in place when she attempted to pick it back up.

“Allow me.”

Uncomfortable, she slowly retreated her hand. “It’s okay… you don’t have to.”

“It’s not a problem. No need to waste whatever allowance Charles gives you.”

“No, really,” she insisted. “I have this part-time job—“

“Kitty, please,” he scoffed. “I can afford to buy a handful of groceries for a teenage girl. Save your money.”

She narrowed her eyes, unsure how to phrase her next words. “You didn’t, um.” Her eyes darted down to the bills in his hand and then back up to his face. She made a vague, jerky gesture with her hands. “For the money, you didn’t, uh…” her words trailed off into thin air.

“Kill anyone?”

“That’s it.”

“No, I did not.”

She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot before grudgingly nodding her head. “Okay, thank you.”

He paid, and she thanked him again when he handed him her bag.

“How are you getting back?” he asked her.

“I was going to walk. Or take the bus, I don’t know.”

“With all your groceries?”

She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to put them in my backpack.”

Erik looked personally offended at the idea. “I’ll drop you off at the institute.”

Kitty looked down at her feet. “Oh, I don’t know…”

He slid his hands into his pockets and took a half step back away from her, worried he’d overstepped his bounds in the strange camaraderie they’d established for the day.

“Well, not a problem. I thought I might as well offer. I thought maybe you had plans for tonight to get back and start binge-eating bread.”

She grinned. “I do, actually.”

“Of course you do.”

“It’s just…” she bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, what if the professor sees you? At the institute?”

Erik gave her a very long look, like he didn’t know if she was joking or not. “Kitty,” he said delicately, “I was there last night _._ ”

Her brows shot up to the middle of her forehead. “Oh,” was all she said. “Okay, cool, let’s go.”

Kitty held her grocery bags in her lap and crinkled the plastic absently as the sun began to set. She stared into it when she spoke next. “Do, um—” she paused, briefly unsure how to refer to them. “Do your kids usually come over? For Passover?”

“Sometimes, yes.” His eyes brightened. “Actually, Pietro eats kitniyot now.”

“Really?” she thought about it for a moment. “I guess that makes sense. It would mess with his whole theme if he was last to do anything.”

Erik laughed. “That’s what he says. Yes, they come when they can. Sometimes I spend it with Charles.”

Kitty actually, physically turned her head to show him the entirety of her shocked expression. “What? Seriously?”

“Oh, yes.” He smiled slightly to himself. “I’ll get him to convert one of these days.”

 _Wow_ , Kitty mouthed to herself. “So is he coming on Friday?”

“No, not this time.”

“Oh. Wanda and Pietro?”

He sighed. “I believe they’re off on some business for the Avengers – or perhaps someone else. Honestly, I can’t keep it straight myself at this point with those two.” He shook his head. “I suppose I’m by myself this year. I assume you’re headed home?”

Kitty crinkled the plastic of her grocery bags. “Actually, no, I… canceled on both my parents.”

“Oh.” He waited half a minute for her to elaborate. “May I ask why?”

She took a deep breath and let out a long, heavy sigh. “My parents got divorced a while back. And now, it’s like every holiday turns into a _thing_ where I have to choose one of them and then hear that one shit-talk the other for the whole time I’m home.” She shrugged. “So I just told them I really can’t make it.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.” She glanced at the side of his face, saw his white hair rustling around in the wind from the slightly open window. “So I guess I’m by myself this year. Whatever, I downloaded Prince of Egypt, it should be fine.”

He snorted. “The cartoon musical?”

“Yes _,_ ” she said defensively. “It’s supposed to be watched every year. It’s a _rule_.”

“I don’t think I remember that one written down anywhere,” he said lightly. The institute was visible in the distance, silhouetted in the dusk.

“I don’t want to be rude, but I feel like you’re not someone who exactly reads all the rules.”

Erik laughed, deeply amused, and it died off into a chuckle by the time he had stopped the car across the street from the gated entrance. He parked without turning the engine off and rotated in his seat to face her.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “Sorry again for… shaming you into leaving a grocery store.”

“I have nothing to be ashamed of,” he said firmly.

“Well, then… for screwing up your attempts to stay off the radar.”

“You know, Kitty,” he said suddenly. “Seeing as we are both without anyone to celebrate with, you’re welcome to spend Passover with me.” Her expression must have been beyond surprised, because he quickly added, “If you like. The offer is open, if you should choose to take it.”

“Umm…” she glanced down at her bags of groceries, thought of the thousand tedious, well-meaning questions she would no doubt get as soon as someone saw the box of matzah on the counter. Thought of Erik saying _I was there last night_ and _not currently on the x-men’s list of priorities._ Thought of the sad image of herself alone on her bed eating a piece of matzah. “Yyyyyeah.”

He blinked. “Yes?”

“Sure,” she said, shrugging. “Why not?” She could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

“Well, great. Let me know if you can no longer make it,” he said gently, offering her an easy out.

She opened the car door. “Ok, I will. 6:00pm?” she climbed out and flinched a little when it slammed shut of its own accord.

“See you then,” he agreed, and drove away.

 

The day of, Kitty agonized about what to bring. Was he cooking? Was he expecting her to cook anything? How traditional was this setup? She regretted not asking him more questions, but the situation was so bizarre that it had not even occurred to her at the time. She settled, in the end, for making her own charoset and bringing that with a bottle of wine she had convinced Logan to buy for her. As she grated the apples, she briefly considered if her bringing wine would be taken the wrong way. She was, after all, underage, her family’s cavalier attitude towards alcohol be damned.

Even if he was put off, she thought, what was he going to do? And also – really? He was going to disapprove of her drinking underage? _Really?_ Wouldn’t that be the most hypocritical thing she had ever heard? She was going to be so kind as to bring a bottle of wine, and Erik Lehnsherr, a _wanted terrorist_ was going to—

Kitty cut off her own train of thought, realizing she was making herself angry at a conversation that had not actually happened and probably never would. She mixed the charoset, packed it into a plastic box, and went to get dressed. She tried very hard not to overthink her choice in attire, and put on a bright pink blouse with black pants. She considered asking the professor exactly how observant Erik was, but decided against it. She’d find out herself soon enough. Would he be covering his head? Kitty abruptly went very pale as an absurd thought forced its way into her head.

He wouldn’t be wearing the helmet, would he?

She shook away the oddly disconcerting idea, but was now filled with an unreasonable anxiety about the possibility, and with that anxiety perched comfortably on her shoulder, went to leave. In the end, she had told three people about her plans: Ororo, who disapproved, the professor, who was a little bit too approving, and Kurt, who was now waiting for her by the door.

“Ready to go?” he asked her, jingling the keys in his hand.

“I sure am. You’re my ride?”

“Unless you want Ororo to confiscate that bottle you’re holding.”

Kitty rolled her eyes. He took her by the hand and an instant later, they had appeared in front of the car in a rush of sound and smoke. As soon as they had pulled out and began to drive, she said, “I gotta say, fuzzy. I thought you’d be against me going to this.”

He shrugged. “There’s not that many people for you to celebrate with here. I understand it can get lonely.” He gave her a sideways smile. “There’s an epidemic of atheist superheroes.”

“Right? There totally is. I have, like, no Jews in my social circle.”

“Spiderman?”

Kitty raised a brow. “Is he Jewish?”

“Sources are mixed.”

“Hmm.” Kitty considered this briefly. “Do you get this problem, too? It seems like _everyone’s_ Catholic.”

He grinned at her, a bright white flash of fangs. “Not the case. You, Dust, and I should get together one day and complain about this together.”

“What about Daredevil? He’s a nice guy.” Kurt’s grin faded, and he bit the inside of his cheek, staying meaningfully quiet. “What, you don’t like Daredevil?”

“We don’t really get along,” Kurt said delicately, which meant that no, he didn’t like him.

“Why?”

He glanced briefly at her, then directed the warm glow of his eyes back towards the road. “I’ll tell you some other time.” He turned onto the final street, then stopped. “We’re here. How are you feeling about Passover with Magneto?”

“I don’t know. It would be nice to have someone to do holidays with that isn’t my parents. Though I have no idea how intensely Erik practices, is he going to be all out? Or is he even going to have his head covered? No idea.”

The corners of Kurt’s mouth quirked up. “What if he wears the helmet?”

“Kurt, are you a total idiot?” she snapped, face flooding with heat. “Obviously he’s not going to wear the helmet. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And honestly – _honestly?_ Kind of offensive.”

His eyes widened, suddenly alarmed.

“Yeah,” she went on. “ _Yeah._ ” She phased herself through the door and out of the car. “I’ll text you when to come get me.”

He did not, in fact, wear the helmet. He did, however, wear a purple and red kippah, but Kitty bit back any comment about it before she had a chance to make an idiot out of herself. When she handed him the wine and charoset, he looked not at all surprised, said thank you, and placed them on the table. He had in fact cooked, and she admired his neat, understated table setting as they sat down. Everything was relatively new, still gleaming white and only minorly scratched, except the seder plate. It was worn, all colour that might have once been long gone to reveal only brown metal, unglamorous and dull and unashamed to take up space. He noticed her looking at it, but neither of them commented on it.

He handed her a Haggadah. “Shall I read, or… would you like to…”

“We can take turns?” she suggested.

Take turns was exactly what they did, passing the time together in a manner that was unsure at first, and became more relaxed with time and glass after glass of ritually consumed wine. When they turned the page to the four questions, Erik looked at her expectantly.

“What?” she said dryly.

“You’re up, Miss Pryde.”

“No way,” she scoffed. “I’m not doing it.”

Erik raised one white eyebrow. “You’re suggesting I should?”

“I’m fifteen years old! Let’s just… let’s just do it together.”

“The whole song?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “Who’s keeping track?” She took in a breath to begin, then stopped herself halfway with a cut-off gasp of air. “Wait, do you make Wanda and Pietro do it?”

A slow smirk crept across his face.

“They take turns.”

They sang the song together, and when it was finally time to eat, all the food had gone lukewarm. She told him the differences between their seder so far and the ones she had had growing up, and then about the conversation she had had with Kurt on the drive there.

“Honestly,” he piped up, “I’m somewhat surprised you didn’t host one back at the mansion.”

She sighed. “I thought about it, but…”

“You didn’t have any desire to spend Passover explaining it to everyone?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, around a mouthful of food. “Oh, my God, yes. Exactly. Like, look.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, looked at it, and theatrically rolled her eyes. “He keeps texting me like hey, are you done, are you still there? Like, he has no idea how long these can last.”

Erik flipped through the Haggadah. “We don’t have that much left. Tell him an hour, set him at ease.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, tapping out a response with her thumbs. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem.” He stood, walked over to the front door, and opened it just slightly, propping it open with a shoe.

“I think that’s later,” Kitty pointed out.

“I like to give him a few minutes in case he isn’t on time,” Erik said lightly.

Kitty grinned. “Okay, fair enough.”

They ran through the rest of the book at the slightly slowed pace of those who are no longer hungry and have no need to rush, and by the time they had finished all the songs and begun clearing the plates, Kitty’s phone buzzed.

“Oh, I guess I have to go.”

“Not a problem. Thank you for joining me,” he said, meaning it. She looked up at him.

“Yeah, I had fun.”

He walked her to the door, and as she reached for the doorknob, slyly added: “Maybe next time I’ll bring the movie.”

There was a small pause, and then he positively beamed at her.

“Who am I to stand in the way of tradition?”


End file.
